


Siege Park

by TarTarIcing



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Other, South Park AU, Tagging this will suck, This is where I'm going be silly and inappropriate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 04:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14156352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TarTarIcing/pseuds/TarTarIcing
Summary: All’s well in Team Rainbow. South Park AU.





	Siege Park

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is going to be a fic where I'm gonna be off-the-wall and silly and bawdy all at the same time. Note that I didn't put in everyone at once because I'm going to slowly introduce them a la South Park. This isn't going to be a play-by-play of South Park episodes but will be done in the spirit of the show amongst other references. I have an array of other chapters planned with re-enacting various moments, but I am open to requests. The more serious episodes, Stick of Truth, and Coon and Friends won't be re-enacted for plot and characterization reasons.

**ALL CHARACTERS AND EVENTS IN THIS FANFICTION -- EVEN THOSE BASED ON REAL PEOPLE -- ARE ENTIRELY FICTIONAL. ALL CELEBRITY VOICES ARE IMPERSONATED... POORLY. THE FOLLOWING STORY CONTAINS COARSE LANGUAGE AND DUE TO ITS CONTENT IT SHOULD NOT BE VIEWED BY ANYONE.**

Guitar strumming starts off in the backdrop of Bartlett University. A splayed set of parts converge to create the Recruit, who is strumming the said guitar.

The Recruit drawls, “ ** _I’m going down to Siege Park, gonna have myself a time_** _._ ”

Rook and Doc emerge out of the university’s door’s in a Humvee, “ ** _Friendly faces everywhere, humble folks without temptation_** _!_ ” Rook then runs over a few White Masks, while Doc is visibly offended.

The Recruit continues to drawl, transporting himself to Kafe Dostoyevsky and stomping on barbed wire, “ ** _I'm goin' down to Siege Park, gonna leave my woes behind_** _!_ ”

Tachanka emerges from the back seat of the Humvee, now breaking in through the front end of the café, whipping out his mounted LMG. He sprays it, shouting, “ ** _Ample parking day or night, people spouting: ‘CYKA BYLAT_** _!’_ ” He hits a bomber, with the exploding force sending the recruit flying outside.

By some miracle of God or RNG, the Recruit is still alive, singing, “ ** _I'm headin' on up to Siege Park, gonna see if I can't unwind_** …”

Yet he lands in Hereford, where the entire kill house is revealed, and almost all the operators are spilling into and out of it. Six is facepalming at the sight of Vigil being hung off the flag pole with the Team Rainbow flag waving proudly. Mute stands in front of it, mumbling, “ ** _If you spawn camp, you’re a bloody fucking loser_** _!_ ”

“ ** _So come on down to Siege Park, and meet some friends of mine_** ,” The Recruit finishes, running away from another bomber.

* * *

 

 _9:08 A.M_  
Hereford, Herefordshire, England  
SAS HQ

“Skipper in the wardroom drinkin' gin,” Thatcher opened. The SAS operators stood outside at the bus stop. God knows why they were there, but I guess it’s one of those moments.

“ **Hey yo, chicken on a raft!** ” The entire SAS cluster chorused. It’s going to be one of those waiting for the bus moments, I see.

“I don't mind knockin', but I ain't goin' in!” Sledge continued.

“ **Hey yo, chicken on a raft!** ”

“The jimmy's laughin' like it'd rain,” Smoke picked up the pace, laughing.

“ **Hey yo, chicken on a raft!** ”

“He's lookin' at me comic cuts again!” Mute softly added.

“ **Hey yo, chicken on a raft!** ”

A black bus with tinted windows and white graffiti showed up. The graffiti said, ‘Free Fish and Chips”. The SAS operators followed into the bus, and continued:

“ **Chicken on a raft on a Monday morning,**  
Oh, what a terrible sight to see,  
Dabtoes forward and the dustmen aft,  
Sittin' there a'pickin' at a chicken on a raft!”

They continued to sing, but I doubt you want to be stuck with _four_ chickens on a raft so let’s move the fuck on.

* * *

 

 _12:00 P.M_  
Hereford, Herefordshire, England  
Team Rainbow HQ, Computer Lab

A chorus of raucous women’s laughter emerged for the heavily locked and insulated computer lab. Three women; Ash, IQ, and Twitch were gather around a single computer. Ash was on the floor laughing.

“SUN GLOWN? WHAT THE FUCK IS SUN GLOWN?” Ash bellowed, laughing at the girl smearing powdered foundation on her face.

“That’s two whole shades darker, oui?” Twitch agreed, “Le petit fleur needs glasses.”

“LADY WHAT ZE FUCK?” IQ screaming, cringing back into her chair. The girl proceeded to put black eyeliner on her lips as liner and then used red lipstick. She then proceeded to put chapstick on the top, “THAT LAYERING IS NOT NATURAL. NEIN! NEIN! NEIN!”

“I think I got ze cancer,” Twitch commented, catching her breath as she saw the girl put bright blue and pink eyeshadow over her eyeliner.

‘Are you using my makeup?’ Another woman’s voice was heard off-screen. A part we’ve been all waiting for.

The woman then entered the screen, grabbing the making and hitting the girl. The women operators cheered.

“That sister’s an ubermensch to stop this trainwreck,” IQ chuckled.

“Girls burning their hair off never gets old!” Twitch added.

“Same with getting eyeliner in their eyes,” Ash continued, getting back up on her chair. All three started giggling and making generally snarky comments at the next video.

The door then burst open with Thermite (the googled-eyed one, not the fuckboy one) and Pulse panicked and wide-eyed.

“Stop watching!” Pulse barked.

“Hey, we don’t complain when you use this place to watch your sexy girl car videos!” Ash barked back, flipping him off.

“Six’s been calling you women!” Thermite admonished urgently, “There’s some big shit going on and it’s a Code Red!”

“How big?” Twitch asked, offended and scowling.

“It’s in LA, and I’m not sure if this is the White Masks’ fault!” Pulse added, “We have to go! Move! And for your information, those are car repair videos.”

“Oh shit, LA!” Ash’s eyes were open in horror, “Girls, let’s move!” The women sprinted out of the computer lab, with the men trailing behind them.

* * *

 

**Welcome to MSNBS! Confirming your prejudices!**

Beyond a white, red, and blue graphic shows a skinny white male with bushy brown hair and glasses holding a paper and reading. The backdrop was of Los Angeles with the Hollywood sign in the center.

A black and yellow tape of BREAKING NEWS sprawls across the screen as the anchorman struggles to be seen.

“Breaking news this afternoon!” The anchorman started, bellowing in uncertainty of his own voice volume, “A gigantic, fifty-foot Keurig machine has been spotted at the heart of Los Angeles. It is apparently sentient, as it can crawl forward and has sprouted arms. Thirteen are dead, fifty are injured, and countless others are rendered stuck and traumatized! Roll the tape, Horacio!” He sounded like was going to break down of laughter. Believe me, I’d have a hard time believing it too. Really, a gigantic kitchen appliance?

Instead he looked mortified as there was a clip of the Keurig machine terrorizing the city. The arms were dragging people into its water supply as other were trying to flee the flying gigantic K-cups in their direction. Cars were cracking left and right as alarms and screaming filled the Los Angeles air. Homeless people opened their mouths to the nozzle, expecting to have some freshly brewed coffee. Instead, they liquified at the hands of a waterfall of Starbucks Blonde espresso.

Six turned the TV off. She turned to the operators, who were crowded into a slim meeting boardroom.

“There’s no way a Keurig machine can grow fifty feet and sprout arms!” Jaeger spouted incredulously. His fellow German and Russian operators agreed, filling the room with both agreement and debate. Six hushed them.

“Unless they dropped LSD or something,” Bandit tried to give an answer. Everyone laughed but Six hushed them again, giving them a death glare.

“This indeed is a serious incident. Funny it may be, but it’s a malicious attack on human lives,” Six took back the conversation, “The FBI Swat has confirmed it’s real and is currently fighting the Keurig and evacuating civilians. Our mission is to stop that Keurig and investigate the cause of this growth. You know what to do.” With that, she left the room.

Everyone swiftly gathered their weapons and filed into the helicopters.

* * *

 

“Are we seriously going to attack a glorified kettle?” Tachanka chuckled. The helicopter was dark and cramped. The French and Russians were seated together.

“Yes,” Glaz answered. He was fidgeting with his paintbrush.

“Why do you have a paintbrush?”

“I was painting when we were all called in, big deal, _bratan_.”

“Well _bratan_ , you could’ve brought something else.”

“Your dick is not to fidget with, Tachanka.”

“CYKA!” Tachanka punched Glaz. Glaz punched back, causing a fight.

“I wouldn’t fidget with either of your dicks,” Kapkan sighed.

“There’s the giant Keurig!” Rook pointed out the window. The Keurig was now holding Kylie Jenner and dipping her in asbestos. A chorus or ooh’s and aah’s overlaid the sound of the helicopter blades.

"Like, oh my god, what are you doing?" Kylie whined as her oversized lips and her pustule-filled face quivered, "My hair _soooooo_ not fabulous right now!" The Keurig smashed her head into the roof of the asbestos building, "Follow me on Snapchat guys, stan for me!"

“I could go for some coffee right now,” Fuze commented.

“Taste would be last of your concerns if you even tried to gather some,” Doc put a damper, but not in a snarky way. But more of a ‘please don’t fucking kill yourself’ kind of way, “You would be liquified before you even have a taste.” The debate distracted everyone to the point they forgot the back hatch was open, giving the soldiers light, wind, and smog.

“ _Merde_! It’s time!” Montagne rushed forward, with Le Roc in hand, “Let’s do this, _mon cheri_!” A chorus of disorganized battle cries filled the air as everyone jumped out. For some reason, all the men converged in a pattern.

“Okay, what ze hell are ze men doing?” IQ floated behind them.

“They’re boys at this point,” Twitch sighed.

“Real mature fellas, real fucking mature!” Ash looked down to see the men hold hands and arrange themselves into a shape of a dick. Imagine being _that_ immature. As they said, boys will be boys. Mute even was blasting ‘Happy Together’ by The Turtles from his phone.

“Are you shitting me?” Twitch spat, “During a mission of all times?”

“This is going to be _so_ easy!” Rook laughed. The men broke formation as they were twenty clicks to the Keurig. Everyone pulled their parachutes, but some people started to attack.

_Imagine me and you, I do  
I think about you day and night, it's only right_

Tachanka pulled out his LMG and started shooting the Keurig at its hood, singing.

_To think about the girl you love and hold her tight  
So happy together_

Fuze fired his cluster charges at the Keurig, continuing the song. It let out a robotic, spewing roar. It popped its hood open, releasing an oversized K-cup of French Vanilla Supreme. Montagne held Blitz tight, only to toss him at the display board.

“ _If I should call you up, invest a dime_  
And you say you belong to me and ease my mind  
Imagine how the world could be, so very fine  
So happy togetheeeeeeeeeeeeer!”

Blitz screamed, activating his flashbang shield and giving the machine a slight shock.

“It shorted!” IQ gasped, seeing it not as a blip on her detector, “Good job, Blitz! Everyone else, keep going!”

From this attack forth, everyone landed properly. Some with a flip, some with a twirl, some standing, and some on their asses. Yes, elite operators can be clumsy too, but they wasted no time in a full-on attack. Doc began administering medical aid to those injured, while Castle built a wall to protect him. Glaz sniped at any live wires. Twitch threw her drones to continue shorting the machine. Ash at one point tried opening her mouth wide and upward like a turkey for rain, but Thermite pulled her away.

“ _I can't see me lovin' nobody but you_  
For all my life  
When you're with me, baby the skies'll be blue  
For all my life,”

The SAS operators sang in unison. Sledge landed on top of the Keurig and started to hammer away at the display screen with his sledgehammer. Ash blew away any used K-cups back to the Keurig itself. Thermite went around the back and blew a hole in it. With this rate of fire, it’s a miracle the Keurig was even functioning. It could no longer crawl and grab things but could only spew freshly brewed coffee at its victims. Mmmmm, black coffee waterfalls.

And like the breaking in of the castle on Bastille Day, Thermite’s hole ushered in the other operators. From outside and inside, the Keurig was done for as everyone was tearing it a new one. Pulse and Montagne added to evacuation and search and rescue efforts. Just as they cleared the streets of Los Angeles, the Keurig had finally surrendered. It was really _that_ easy. The battered machine imploded on itself, releasing not only smog, but also the cloying scent of Green Mountain Breakfast Blend.

A cracked and completely destroyed normal size Keurig was left in its wake. People cheered, clapped, and hollered at the neutralized threat. Team Rainbow saved the day.

* * *

 

“ _Me and you and you and me_  
No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be  
The only one for me is you, and you for me  
So happy together,”

The operators held hands and sang into their helicopters, waving to the elated civilians as they flew away and vowed to never trust a Keurig machine for a while. That should be enough for someone to swear off coffee, to be completely honest.

* * *

 

“We fucked up.”

Now here comes the oh-so-spooky part of the episode where I establish some shit. We’re now in some dark, dirty, basement, where some dudes have their hands raised and gathered in a circle. They all wore white masks and drab olive green robes. In all seriousness, they are some ugly-ass cultists.

But they’re not.

“Yeah, shit.” A White Mask terrorist cured, looking down at the broken pentacle made of some kind of purple Heinz ketchup you get in the 90s and blood. Possibly boogers and cum too.

“We could’ve gotten a rat, but instead you had to get some coffee, Bill,” Another terrorist added critique.

“Yeah, Bill.”

“Dammit Bill!” It became a circlejerk against Bill. Bill was a bomber white a bulky white robe and olive trim.

Bill started to defend himself, “We’ll get them next time. At least our magic works.”

“Praise thee, Lord Cthulu!” They all chanted, raising their arms.


End file.
